


let's go, don't wait

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 03:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13650075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: In the beginning, it's just Fjord and Jester. Jester knows what she wants. Fjord is a gentleman. Jester finds this unacceptable.





	let's go, don't wait

**Author's Note:**

> Started after episode one for the [Fic Challenge That Launched, Well, You Know](http://notalwaysweak.tumblr.com/post/168564853763/the-fic-challenge-that-launched-well-you-know). Only just finished because depression is a bitch. Not mine, just borrowing.
> 
> * * *

“We should have sex,” Jester says brightly.

Fjord’s reasonably certain that she would say _we should have breakfast_ in that same tone, at least if they had anything more interesting on offer for breakfast than porridge and maybe a handful of berries. Trostenwald is still over the horizon, and so is anything resembling real food; they’re neither of them really hunters, and—

“Excuse me?”

Why the _heck_ is he thinking about food right now?

“We should have sex,” Jester repeats. “It’s too dark to travel, we’ve eaten dinner, but I’m not tired yet, and sex is fun. Besides, it’s a good way to keep warm.” She’s already picking open the lacing on the bodice of her dress, and Fjord can see soft blue curves by the firelight.

“Wait, Jester, hold on—”

Jester stops, dress gaping open, and tilts her head at him with a curious look. “What’s wrong? Have you not had sex before? I can teach you, it’s pretty easy to pick up the basics.”

“I’ve had sex before!” Fjord knows his cheeks have gone ruddy. “I don’t know, we’ve only just met, do you really think this is the best idea?”

Shrugging, Jester spreads her arms wide, which leaves the dress only barely clinging to her upper body. If she’s wearing a breastband under it, Fjord can’t see it. “Why not? If it’s not fun, we just go to sleep.” Her pearly white grin stretches like her gesturing hands. “Or we try harder.”

“I’m still not sure—”

Jester wiggles her hips and her dress slithers to the ground. _Oh_. Well, that answers the breastband question; she’s put the _small_ back in _smallclothes_. “Are you worried I won’t like your dick? I don’t mind if it’s small. Or bent. Sometimes the bendy ones can do—”

“ _Jester_!” Fjord’s really russet with embarrassment now. “I’ve had sex before, and I ain’t had any complaints about my dick! I’m just not sure about doing this with—what if it don’t work out and then we got to travel together with that between us?”

“Suit yourself. I’ll just be over here all alone in my bedroll.” She rolls the dress up for use as a pillow, and crawls under the covers, such as they are. “Just getting a good night’s sleep, totally naked.” One blue arm comes out of the bedroll, pushing the little pieces of fabric that she, well, isn’t wearing any more into her pack.

“Good night,” Fjord says, not quite struck dumb but damn close to it. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” Jester says.

Fjord moves a log deeper into the fire so that it doesn’t burn out and begins to inventory his supplies, until a breathy little moan catches his attention. Jester is having a good night all right, possibly involving dreaming (for a given value of dreaming), but by no stretch of the imagination is she asleep.

“Mmmm...”

“ _Jester_!”

“ _What_?” Both hands are very much not visible; Fjord tries and fails not to imagine where that means they are. “Fjord, I’m not going without just because you’re not interested.” She looks genuinely irritated. “I think you’re being silly, anyway. _I_ don’t mind. If it’s not so good we just don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry.” Fjord can’t meet her gaze, because if he does his eyes will wander from her eyes to the curls of her horns and hair, to her slender blue neck and bare shoulders, and then his _imagination_ will wander...

To his surprise, Jester looks contrite. “I’m sorry too. I should at least be quiet. I’m not really used to that.”

“Being quiet?”

“Yeah.”

She does indeed fall silent, her eyes closing and her nose scrunching up in an effort to stay that way. But her hands are still at work on her body, hidden inside her bedroll, and Fjord can’t stop watching their movements now that he’s started—and when _did_ he start? This is no way to be respectful to a travelling companion.

Although, on the other hand, turning down a perfectly reasonable offer of sex, with Jester’s attitude that if it doesn’t work they can just move on (or at least _she_ can just move on; Fjord’s not so sure he could) quite clear, also seems a little disrespectful.

“Jester?”

“Mmmmhmmm?”

“You’re not, uh, cold over there or anything, are you?”

Her eyes half-open and oh, the smile that accompanies her lazy gaze is just the wickedest thing he’s ever seen. “Tieflings run pretty warm, Fjord.”

“Oh.”

“You want to come over here and find out _how_ warm?”

Fjord goes. It’d be just plain rude to say no, when she's lying there all tousled and warm-looking and if _he_ can hear _her_ taking matters into her own hands, _she_ would doubtless hear _him_.

It's a tight squeeze getting them both in one bedroll, but they make it work .


End file.
